


The Worst You've Seen Him

by thundercaya



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Depression, M/M, Unexpected Visitors, Workplace Warzone compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 05:16:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16152356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thundercaya/pseuds/thundercaya
Summary: Madison's parents have a chat with Jefferson about their son's mental health.





	The Worst You've Seen Him

Jefferson grabbed his phone off his desk and headed out the door, eager to leave his office and the Capitol before he could be detained yet again. Madison had left over thirty minutes ago and was probably eagerly waiting for Jefferson to bring home dinner. Once he was safely in his car, Jefferson shot him a text.

_Hey hon I’m finally out. What do you want to eat tonight?_

_Can you bring in a pizza?_

Not exactly surprising coming from Madison, but pizza hadn’t been at the top of the list since Jefferson had seen him eating a slice at lunch earlier that week. Still, who was he to deny the love of his life his favorite meal?

_Of course hon._

As soon as Jefferson pulled out of the parking lot, another text followed. At the first red light, he glanced at it.

_CANCEL_

He didn’t have time to respond before he got moving again, so he simply changed his course from the pizza parlour to Madison’s house. He probably had a surge of heartburn and wanted something gentler for dinner.

As he made his way up the walk, Jefferson did a mental inventory of what was in Madison’s fridge, trying to plan something he could throw together quickly. He opened the front door and called out; “Hon, I cancelled the pizza!” 

When Jefferson caught sight of Madison seated in the living room with his parents, he realized that the man had meant cancel the visit. Madison looked more resigned than anything, so Jefferson hoped that meant Madison wasn’t mad that he’d misinterpreted the message.

“Mr. and Mrs. Madison,” Jefferson greeted. “I didn’t see a car outside.”

“We took a mover,” Mr. Madison said, standing to shake Jefferson’s hand.

“An Uber, Love,” Mrs. Madison corrected. She put her arms around Jefferson, pulling him into a tight hug. “It’s good to see you, Thomas.”

“Good to see you, too,” Jefferson said as the couple sat back down. He didn’t take a seat of his own, wondering if he could maybe still make an escape. Madison was digging his fingers into the armrest of his chair and looking more and more like he wanted to become liquid and be absorbed into the seat cushion. “What, uh, brings you into town?”

“We just wanted to see our boy and take him to a nice dinner,” Mrs. Madison said. “You too, of course. So I’m glad to hear you cancelled your pizza.”

Jefferson cleared his throat. “That’s a very kind invitation, but while I can get away with having dinner with my best friend in public, having dinner with his parents might be a bit conspicuous.”

“Fair point,” Mr. Madison said. “Maybe we could order in after all.”

“I have a better idea,” Mrs. Madison said. “Jimmy, why don’t you drive somewhere and pick us up something?”

Jefferson saw Madison stiffen. “Why don’t I go?” he said quickly. “James is already comfortable and I haven’t even sat down yet.”

“He is absolutely not comfortable,” Mrs. Madison said. She turned to her son again. “Sweetie, a quick little trip outside is just want you need to calm yourself. I know you don’t like surprises and I’m sorry for just showing up, but if you take a minute to relax, then we can all have a good time. All right, baby?”

Madison took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his fingers loosening from the armrests. “All right,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. “Chili fries are happening, and you can’t stop it.”

Once Madison was out the door, Jefferson finally gave in and took a seat.

“So….” he said, now that it was clear that the person they were really there to see was him. “What would you have done if we’d gone out to dinner?”

“Asked you to drive us while Jimmy drove himself,” Mrs. Madison said. “Same reason, to let him catch his breath.”

“Well, the chili dog place has pretty fast service, so what did you need to talk to me about?”

“Here’s the thing,” Mr. Madison said. “The other day, Fanny was–”

“Taylor, honey,” Mrs. Madison cut in.

“Right. The other day Taylor was laughing at her phone, and when I asked her what was so funny she showed me one of those, uh, those pictures with words that people like to post around Facebook.”

“A meme?” Jefferson offered.

“Yeah, one of those. Jimmy had sent it to her, and I guess it was supposed to be funny somehow, and I don’t remember exactly what it said and she never told me how to find it on my phone, but it was something about suicide.”

“Well, sir, from what I understand, that seems to be the kind of thing that kids today find funny.”

“I know that. That’s why I’m not worried about Fa- about Taylor. But Jimmy is the one who sent it to her, and he’s not some ‘kid today’ with a weird sense of humor. He’s a grown man with a… history of worrying behavior.”

“Jimmy has always been a bit… morbid,” Mrs. Madison added. “I’m sure it has to do with his first baby sister dying. But it really got concerning after that boy from Princeton passed away.”

Jefferson furrowed his brow; he didn’t know about Madison losing a friend in college. “What boy from Princeton?”

“If he hasn’t told you, I’m not sure we should.”

Madison’s father put a hand on Mrs. Madison’s knee.

“Nelly, the context matters here.”

She sighed, putting her hand on his and squeezing before continuing.

“His roommate passed away the summer after their first year. Jimmy went really hard into school after that. We didn’t think much of it because he was already going hard into school before that, but we didn’t realize it was worse this time. Towards the end of his second year, he passed out in class. Exhaustion, dehydration, low blood sugar. Now, you know Jimmy’s not a healthy-living kind of person, but that was downright negligent, and just not like him. We asked him what happened and he said why try to take care of yourself when you can just drop dead out of nowhere on a beautiful day?”

“That’s what happened to the Princeton boy?”

“Yes. He had a heart condition no one knew about. We took Jimmy home from the hospital. His grades were excellent, and the school was worried about how it looked for one of their students to have a breakdown, so they let him take his finals late. Ever since then we’ve had to keep an eye on him in case he ever got too self-destructive—or got more direct. You’re the closest one to him now, geographically and emotionally. You’re the one who can keep the best eye on him, and I’m sure you have. How has he been?”

Jefferson took a moment, having to recontextualize his own observations and ideas about the man he loved with this information that had been previously withheld from him. The Madisons seemed to understand this, not prompting him to speak sooner.

“He’s not the worst I’ve seen him,” Jefferson said finally. “If he’s making jokes about it with his sister, then he’s probably mostly fine. I think if it was something he was really thinking about, he’d avoid the topic. You know how nervous he gets about saying the wrong thing. I think a truth-said-in-jest situation would be too stressful for him.”

“What….” Mrs. Madison hesitated. “What _is_ the worst you’ve seen him?”

Now Jefferson was in a bind. Of course Madison wouldn’t want Jefferson to talk about his lowest moments–didn’t even want Jefferson to see those moments if he could help it–but these were his parents asking, people who had seen similar moments themselves and were worried because of them. He realized, however, that the relevant information wasn’t what those moments were _like_ , but how often they were, and what, if anything, caused them. They didn’t need to know about Madison dampening Jefferson’s tank tops with tears and stretching out the necks as he gripped onto the straps for dear life. They didn’t have to know about how hard it was for Madison to force a buttered cracker down his throat some days only for him to inhale a frozen cheesecake the next day without even bothering to defrost it first. They didn’t need to know about the nights that Madison spent on the floor next to the bed instead of in it, crawling under the covers just before Jefferson awoke, the imprint of his body in the carpet the only reason Jefferson knew. They didn’t have to know about the days that Jefferson wasn’t allowed anywhere near Madison, not a single text or phone call answered, and the edge of desperation Madison couldn’t quite keep out of his voice when he finally had enough of being alone and asked for Jefferson’s company.

“The last real rough time he had was when he had to change his medication,” Jefferson said. “It’s been doing its job since he adjusted to it, but it was kind of giving him hell for a while there.”

“He didn’t tell us he’d changed it,” Mrs. Madison said. “Was there something wrong with the old ones? Did they make him ill again?”

“He did tell us,” Mr. Madison said. “Remember? He sent us a picture to complain how much bigger the tablets were.”

“Oh, that’s right! He’d been on the old ones so long they weren’t working anymore. I wish he’d told us he was having a rough transition. It’s just like him to whine about the pills and not talk about what they’re doing.”

There was a knock on the door, which was strange since Madison usually locked his gate. Jefferson furrowed his brow. “Uh. I guess I should check that.” He stood up from his seat and went to the door. When he looked through the peephole he saw Madison and let out a bemused huff. “It’s your son,” he said before opening the door. “Hey hon. Why did you knock?”

“I’m absolutely certain my parents were talking to you about me and I didn’t want to walk in if you weren’t finished. I’ve actually been here a couple minutes, but I was worried about the chili fries getting soggy and cold.”

Jefferson glanced over his shoulder at Madison’s parents. Mrs. Madison stood up. “Bring the food in, baby. I’ll set the table.”

“You don’t need to set the table for chili fries,” Madison said as he moved past Jefferson to join his mother heading for the kitchen.

Jefferson shook his head and let out a sigh before closing and locking the door. When he turned to move to the kitchen, Mr. Madison had stood up as well. He patted Jefferson on the back. “We can never repay you enough for looking after him.”

Jefferson smiled warmly. “Well, don’t worry about that. He repays me tenfold.”

Mr. Madison pulled a face and then turned towards the kitchen.

Jefferson winced. “No, I didn’t mean–Oh, whatever.”


End file.
